


Cutting the Strings But Eating the Apple

by TheWannaBeMapleQueen



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Gender Neutral MC - Freeform, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Minor Character Death, Other, Snow White AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2020-12-27 16:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21122129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWannaBeMapleQueen/pseuds/TheWannaBeMapleQueen
Summary: When Rika tears apart your kingdom from the inside, it seems impossible for you to survive much less save your people. You are the king in a metaphorical game of chess, priceless and irreplaceable but not able to do much against your opponent. It’s up to you to stand up to her despite the odds.Luckily, you have help.Jumin x MC Snow White AU!





	1. Purest of Hearts

You were 14 years old when your mother died. She had fallen terribly ill one winter and, despite all of the best doctors in the land rushing to save her, there was nothing they could do. 

You didn’t remember her very well, but you did remember how she used to run around the courtyard with you and tickle you until you were crying with laughter. The members of the king’s court would scold her and say it wasn’t befitting of a queen to behave in such a way, but she was always able to quiet them with a single glare. You also remembered how she would speak to the servants as if they were all her good friends. The kingdom had a lot of respect for her, as did you. 

The day your mother passed she told you the story of how your parents fell in love despite all the odds being stacked against them, and how you were the product of the love that had been fought for so hard. You were born from love that had survived many hardships that were completely unfathomable to you, and that she loved you with all her heart.

You spent the next year or so watching your father and learning how he lead the kingdom. He was a wise and kind king with about as soft a heart as your mother, but he was not easily tricked. He taught you how to wield a sword, how to write eloquently, how to make allyships with other kingdoms. Most importantly, he reinstilled the lessons your mother had taught you about morality and never turning away a person in need.

“The people come first,” Your father had told you one day while the two of you took a tour of the surrounding town, “All the people. But remember, the rich will try to become richer and leave the poor in the dust; it is our job to make sure our people as a whole are safe, fed, and happy.”

You were 16 years old the day your father fell in love for the second time to a young woman not much older than yourself as beautiful as the sun. The maiden went by the name of Rika. She was small, dainty, and absolutely stunning in appearance. She had showed up to the castle in search of refuge, claiming that she had been obsessed over and chased by the adjacent kingdom’s Lord Jihyun, a young man about her age. Your father claimed it was love at first sight. 

The king was absolutely enchanted by Rika and the way she spoke. She talked of a world of betterment, peace, and love - much like your mother had. You couldn’t help but wonder if your father was attempting to replace your mother with Rika to heal his broken heart. But, Rika seemed to care for your father deeply, so you kept your mouth shut. 

You were 17 years old the day you watched your father marry Rika, and the day your father died. In the middle of the first night they slept in the same bed, she blinded him with acid and suffocated him to death. You never even got to say goodbye. That was the day she took the crown by force and she never looked back. Queen Rika had you locked up that day instead of killed, and you never understood why. 

You were 18 years old exactly on the day the opportunity came for you to escape that god awful cell. 

-

You were jerked awake by the obnoxious creaking of your cell door and a timid voice speaking up, “Excuse me, your highness?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Time to see the queen,” You groaned, sitting up and rubbing your eyes, “What does she want me to do today? Listen to another lecture about her darkness?” You glanced over at the servant. That was Lydia, a soft spoken young girl who sometimes came to keep you company and give you updates about the horrible state the kingdom was in despite how much trouble she could get in for it. 

Her mint colored eyes were filled with fear and she looked around before stepping into the cell and lowering her voice to a whisper, “You have to leave. Now.” She swallowed, resting her hands on your shoulders, “The queen… she wants to turn you today.”  
You raised an eyebrow in confusion, “Turn me? What do you mean?” 

Lydia quickly looked over her shoulder before turning back to you, “She wants to rip out your heart and make you a mindless puppet in front of the whole kingdom. She says she wants to take the pain away and the only way to do that is to take out the source.” She lifted her hand to her collar, lowering it just enough for you to see a circular scar with lightning sprouting off of it. A feeling of sheer dread coursed through your veins at the news and sight of the scar. “Mine will be complete soon, but it is not too late for you. Follow me.”

You quickly stood, doing exactly as told and following the little servant girl through the halls. It was heartbreaking. Even as you two walked, you could see a glaze slowly set over Lydia’s eyes and her hands start to occasionally twitch. Since when were her eyes like that? You always remembered them being a soft chestnut and filled to the brim with warmth, not hollow and a mint color. 

Soon, the two of you came to the servant’s quarters, where she opened an escape hatch your father had added for the servants to retreat through in the event of an attack. She took a deep breath and hugged you tightly, which you returned whole-heartedly. 

“I can’t help you any further, please be careful-” Lydia froze, her legs suddenly shaking. She pulled away, wheezing and clutching at her chest as tremors began coursing through her body. 

You reached out to make sure she didn’t fall, “Lydia? Lydia what’s going on?!” Her eyes began welling up with tears - no, not tears. You realized after a few seconds she was starting to cry blood. Your heart stopped beating for a second.

“She knows,” Lydia gasped, trembling against you and coughing, “She… she knows… run.” She whimpered, stifling a sob before abruptly going limp in your arms.  
You felt your blood run cold, “Lydia?? Lydia, wake up!” Your fingers went to beneath her jawline to check her pulse only to feel absolutely nothing. You shook her desperately, but she didn’t react. Her eyes, still wide with pain and shock, had shifted from the mint color to a solid black. 

There was nothing you could do. You lay her down, closed her eyes, and slipped into the escape tunnel without another word. Tears stung your eyes as you began running, racing against the clock to avoid a similar fate.


	2. The Heaviest Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jumin is reminded of how he is just a pawn in his father’s game.

Prince Jumin hated when his father would host dinner for the royalty of all the kingdom’s allies. It wasn’t that he disliked it in theory, he found it to be quite necessary in fact, but the socialization surrounding the meal was draining. He would much rather be studying, fencing, or doing something else much productive with his time. However, as much as Jumin despised it, leaving his father in the same room with so many vulnerable, unmarried young princesses wasn’t much of an option. That didn’t mean that there weren’t those who got on his nerves.  
Princess Kyungju, for one example, had just about the least convincing fake kindness he had ever witnessed. Things she said that were meant to be coated in metaphorical honey ended up coming out drenched in a sickening sweetness so revolting he had nearly left the room in that very moment. Nobody else in the room seemed to pick up on just how counterfeit her compliments were, so he kept his mouth shut and shouldered the burden of being polite to such a deceitful young woman.  
The one who bothered him the most, however, was Princess Sarah. This princess was one of many words but no actions, from what Prince Jumin had overheard from gossiping nobility. She was very opinionated, but did nothing to support the claims she made. In all honesty, watching her in that moment from his seat at the dining table as she spoke to anyone who would listen, he could tell that the rumors weren’t too far off. She seemed to love the sound of her own voice, which was one of the most grating sounds that he could ever recall, and was not afraid to just talk about anything and everything. He didn’t understand her compulsive need to draw the attention of the room to her when she had absolutely nothing of importance or interest to say. Jumin could think of very few things he could be doing that he would prefer this over. At least this was only for a single evening, he wouldn’t be able to stand staying in the same room with her for much longer.  
Not that Sarah’s mother was much better, frankly. Queen Glam, the recently crowned monarch of an ally kingdom, quietly dipped her tea and took half-lidded glances at Jumin’s father. The prince couldn’t tell if she was flirting like every other woman who had the opportunity of talking with King Chin-Hwa or if she was just smug. Regardless, Jumin knew something was amiss and he didn’t like it. The queen stirred her tea with too calm of a demeanor, casting a pompous smile the king’s way.  
Jumin took the last bite of his meal and was just about to dismiss himself when his father abruptly cleared his throat to gather the attention of the room. Every guest fell silent - even Sarah, which was an absolute blessing even if only a temporary one.   
King Chin-Hwa stood, looking over all of his guests with a smile to charm the gods, “Greetings, my friends, my allies, and my fellow royalty from far and wide. I have called you together on this joyous occasion to announce that my beloved son, Prince Jumin, shall be wed to Princess Sarah of Veacien in three months time.”  
Jumin froze, staring owl-eyed at his father as he attempted to wrap his mind around what was just said. Sarah squealed in excitement, grinning widely at her mom. Murmurs shifted through the room in waves, and he could feel the stares from everyone in the room burning into him. An arranged marriage? He glanced at Queen Glam with her arrogant smirk, then Sarah who beamed across the table at him and winked flirtatiously.   
“I declare a toast to the lovely couple,” King Chin-Hwa continued with a charismatic air of enthusiasm, raising his golden goblet, “May their days together be long and exuberant.”  
Jumin felt his throat go dry as he finally made eye contact with his father, whom expectantly nodded to the chalice placed directly in front of the prince. Was he just supposed to play along? He had a lot of respect for his father as a king, but this decision was clearly not made on the basis of the good of the kingdom. The only thing that motivated his father more than the kingdom was… women. That would explain the self satisfied look on Queen Glam’s face. Yes, it was all so clear to him now.  
He was once again coming second to the sexual urges of his father.   
The prince then realized that the room had fallen silent and that everyone was staring at him. The grin from his father’s face had fallen and the king awkwardly cleared his throat again to try and get his attention. Jumin glanced momentarily at his silver goblet before standing.  
“Please excuse me,” Jumin spoke in monotone despite all of the anger and hurt pumping through his veins, “I have something to attend to.” He turned his back, walking silently out of the room. King Chin-Hwa said something firm as the doors closed, but the prince had stopped listening by that point. That had probably been important. Oh well.  
He formally rested his hands behind his back as he walked down the hall, his gray eyes narrowing and focusing on the stone floor. The lack of control that he had in this situation made his chest tightened. Sure, he had retreated from the dining room for now, but he knew that wasn’t nearly the end of it and that there was nothing in his power that he could do to stop it. The only thing he could think of was to try and find an alternative solution that would be just as beneficial to the kingdom, but… he couldn’t think of anything that would be worth more to his father than momentary pleasure. Hell, if he had known, maybe Chin-Hwa wouldn’t be treating him the same as goods to be traded with other kingdoms.  
Jumin began walking up the stairs, lost in his thoughts and trying to cope with the feeling of not having any control over anything at the moment.


	3. Promotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihyun gives Jumin some needed comfort and advice.

“Ah… I see…”  
Jumin watched his best friend, Lord Jihyun, open and close his mouth several times. Jihyun usually knew exactly what to say to help Jumin focus, but at the moment the noble seemed to be speechless upon finding out about the betrothal. Not that he could really blame him, the prince didn’t really know what to say on the matter either. What really was there to say? Jihyun gave up on trying to speak for a moment, simply taking his turn in the game of chess the two were currently in the middle of.   
Prince Jumin reached forward and picked up one of the already discarded pawns, “I haven’t the faintest clue of where to go from here.” He traced his thumb along the little designs carved into the side, his frown deepening. “It isn’t as if I can just refuse, but why must I submit to this as if I were a slave? I would think my father would at least provide me a list of eligible brides that I could pick from, but he didn’t even grant me that right.” He squinted at the pawn, tightening his grip around it for a few seconds before half-heartedly taking his own turn in their game.  
Jihyun sat back, folding his arms against his chest and contemplating before speaking, “I’m so sorry, my friend. This is troubling indeed… Mayhaps the king would listen to you given you suggested another eligible bride to marry instead?” Another eligible bride? Jumin glowered a little, setting down the pawn to the side of the board with the other discarded pieces. He couldn’t imagine spending with anyone other than Elizabeth the Third, his precious angel of a cat whom was currently off being bathed by his most trustworthy handmaiden Jaehee. Marriage in itself, despite how practical he found consensual political marriages to be, did not appeal to him in the slightest.   
The one woman who Jumin had actually considered courting had been a beautiful young noble woman by the name of Rika. She had been lovely, speaking constantly of bettering the world through the delicate means of the heart. Jihyun had fallen for her just as quickly, so Jumin stepped aside without anybody knowing or realizing and watched his best friend happily court her. A little over two years ago, Rika had burned Jihyun’s eyes with an acidic potion and fled to a neighboring kingdom. Magic had managed to restore most of Jihyun’s vision, but those mint eyes of his still had scarred tissue around them. Rika married the king of that kingdom, who died of a heart attack a few nights after. At least, that’s what Jumin had been told, but he felt there was more to the story than he was hearing.  
The prince frowned, taking his turn in their game, “Not a single one of those princesses tonight care about me or my kingdom in the slightest. Marrying any of them would not be beneficial except to strengthen an alliance; however, it would also be risky considering that all of them are too selfish to rule and therefore aren’t in fact eligible. I know my father, and I know that he won’t listen to me when it comes to women. He never listened when it came to any of the women he courted, especially my former step-mother, so why would he listen to me now?”  
Jihyun fell silent, listening with an expression of heartache. Jumin very rarely mentioned his step-mother, as talking about her brought back memories he was… not so fond of. Memories that made his chest clench and his stomach churn.   
Lord Jihyun silently took out one of Jumin’s bishops, taking a few minutes to choose his words before he finally spoke up, “I’m so sorry, my friend… I am not entirely certain of what to say. This is a very… troubling situation.” The prince retaliated on his turn, his brow furrowing in frustration. “...Could you investigate her highness and try to prove to your father that she is not a candidate that would benefit the kingdom? Do you think that would get through to him?”  
The prince stopped, his expression shifting a bit as he considered it. He had known that Queen Glam and Princess Sarah wanted the throne and were obviously pulling the strings behind the scenes, but he had assumed the reason was the same as the reason behind every betrothal. Was there a more specific reason behind it? It was certainly plausible, especially considering that she received the throne due to her husband dying… what if she had done the same as Rika? Would that put himself at risk? Or his father? No matter how upset he was with the king at the moment, the idea of such an effective plot against him terrified Jumin.   
Jihyun nervously moved his king, “Princess Sarah doesn’t seem malicious, just a bit self centered. Maybe I spoke out of place.”  
“No, don’t get the wrong idea. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to try. I don’t have many options at this point. I’ll leave for Veacien as soon as possible,” A barely visible, hopeful smirk twitched on the edge of Jumin’s mouth as he moved his queen, “Check.”


	4. The Hunt

After what seemed like hours of on and off running through the tunnel, saying you were drained would be an understatement. Your index and middle finger shifted up to rest on the side of your head where dull throbbing had set in a while ago, pressing against the supple skin as you silently pleaded for it to stop. You could really, honestly, genuinely do without the waves of pain shooting up through your feet and legs, or without the large surface scratches left on your shins from the undergrowth poking out of the tunnel walls. Physically you weren’t doing so great, but mentally you were even worse. Although unintentionally, you kept running the memory of Lydia’s death through your head on loop; your stomach turned from the repetitive horror of it.   
An intense ire stirred deep in your chest as you rubbed the side of your head and a sharp grunt slipped from your lips. You didn’t know how, but Rika killed Lydia - the one person you could remember who had given you sympathy throughout the time you were locked away. Rika had taken another life. Who knew how many she had taken by this point? Your lips curved downward in a frown of rage, but despite that your eyes began to well up with tears for what was probably the fifth time. She was slaughtering your people; innocent people, innocent children. After all, Lydia had barely been fourteen years of age, the poor thing. Her mother was most likely being told of ‘an accident’ the girl had during work that had left her daughter maimed beyond recognizability. Alternatively, perhaps Rika would tell her that Lydia had rebelled and gotten killed by a nameless guard for her behavior. A furious scowl spread across your features. Exactly how much blood did Rika have on her hands?  
Too much was the only answer that came to mind.  
You only shook out of your thoughts as you noticed a ray of light brightening up the tunnel ahead. Before you even fully had a chance to process it, you were racing forward to stand underneath a gaping hole and stare up to try to figure out where you were. Your father had never told you much about the tunnel much less where it lead.   
Crawling out of the hole was a bit of a struggle, but you managed after a few failed attempts. You collapsed onto the soft ground beside it, panting heavily from your trek. The grass was much more vibrant than you recalled, and you had certainly forgotten just how many individual leaves would sway on the trees as a breeze tumbled through them. The fresh, earthy smell was probably what you had missed the most about being outside; it was unspeakably better than the stuffy yet sharply cool air of the cell you had been held in.   
Lydia has given this back to you; even if you died tomorrow, you would always owe her everything for that.  
-  
“Hello? Is anyone in there?”  
The voice wasn’t familiar to you, but it was comfortingly light and cheerful as if speaking to a lifelong friend. You peeked open your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the overhead light. Overhead light? It took you a few seconds to recall where you were and why, and a few more to comprehend that there was a silhouette standing over you. The sun created a halo-like effect around the figure’s head.  
“Hey! You’re awake!” The person stood and you winced at the direct light on your face, but as your sight adjusted you could see the silhouette was a redhead with odd glasses and hunter’s gear. A wide grin sat on the stranger’s face as he rested his hands on his hips, “Ya know, the ground’s not the best place for a nap. Especially in these woods, haha!”   
A groan slipped from your lips and you sat up a little too quickly. Your head spun as nausea flooded over you in an abrupt wave. That’s right, the last meal you had was about this time the day before. One of your hands quickly moved to rest over your stomach instinctively. The stranger’s eyebrows furrowed in concert and the edge of his mouth turned downwards in a frown.   
Before the redhead could speak, a second much rougher voice piped in, “We don’t have time for this, Luciel. Leave them and let’s go, we’re on a mission.” Your eyes trailed over to see a tall, rather built brunette man glowering at you. He stood with one hand grasping the sheath on his hip and the other hovering over the sword hilt tensely.   
“Calm down, Mary. The mission can wait a few minutes,” The redhead, presumably Luciel, crouched next to you, “You okay? You’re really pale.” You turned your gaze to meet the piercing amber eyes behind the odd glasses. It was odd to see such a striking color - they felt familiar, somehow. You didn’t know why, but a sense of sorrow struck your chest.   
You managed to get out, “I’m fine, I’m fine… just really hungry. Now, where exactly are we?” The hunter raised an eyebrow at you, pushing his glasses up his nose. Mary, as Luciel called him, narrowed his eyes further. Why were they so on guard? After all, you were unarmed and dressed in sleepwear - ah. No wonder they found you odd.  
Abruptly, Luciel lightly laughed, “Talk about waking up on the wrong side of bed, eh? We’re a little ways past the northern border of Araminta.” He glimpsed over to the gaping hole that dropped into the tunnel, then back to you. “Was there an attack or something? These tunnels haven’t been used since before the king died.” His hand shifted to a pack on his waist and he pulled out a small loaf of bread. He broke it in half, holding one piece out to you.  
“No, no, nothing like that, I think…” You gratefully took the food and sank your teeth into it hungrily. Luciel sat cross-legged beside you as you scarfed it down, eyeing you with a look of conflicting amusement and worry. The bread was fresh. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you hadn’t had to cut mold off of your bread. It wasn’t long before you tossed the last piece into your mouth and let out a soft breath of relief. At least now you knew you’d get through another day. Probably.   
He took a leather flask from his pack and twisted off the lid, offering it to you as he asked, “Are you an escaped prisoner? Damn, kudos to you! I’ve heard Rika’s castle is impossible to escape.”  
You opened your mouth to respond; however, your mouth went dry and you closed it again. Technically he was right, but putting it like that made it sound like you were a criminal. Wait, were you a criminal? You did escape directly against Rika’s orders…   
“Uh… maybe?” The uncertain words felt heavy as they slipped off your tongue. You silently accepted the flash to down a couple gulps and hand it back. You hadn’t quite fully comprehended that you were wanted until that moment. How long had you been asleep? Surely guards weren’t far behind if Rika knew about the tunnels.  
Luciel tilted his head with an exaggerated pout, “You can tell us. I don’t give a shit about royalty - except for Prince Jumin’s cat Elly. She is my bride-to-be!” He pulled an obviously fake ring out of one of the coin pouches on a strap over his chest and slipped it into his left hand, holding it out dramatically. “See? We’re engaged~” You couldn’t help but smile and chuckle at his joke. At least, you hoped he was joking. In these kingdoms, you never know for sure.  
“Luciel, seriously. We need to go,” Mary reminded grimly, his lip curling up a little as he glanced around warily, “It’s not safe here.”  
“Yeah, yeah,” Luciel dismissively waved off Mary over his shoulder, “Come with us, if you want to. It’s dangerous to be out here alone.” What choice did you have? You had no idea where you were, and going in the wrong direction meant certain death and letting Lydia’s sacrifice be in vain.   
Mary gaped for a few seconds before butting in, “There’s no way they’re coming with us. Absolutely not.” The huntsman finally glanced over his shoulder, a smirk forming across his face.  
They had a stare off for a few seconds before Luciel spoke, “Just until they find a safe place! We can’t just leave them here alone.” Mary stayed quiet, glaring daggers at Luciel until the silence was taken as a reluctant agreement and the friendlier of the two turned back to you. “So how ‘bout it?”  
You nodded slowly, hesitantly, “Alright.” Luciel’s expression lit up and he practically jumped to his feet. He offered his hand to you to help him up, unintentionally showing off the callouses scattered across his palm. Your hand automatically moved up to accept his help and he pulled you to your feet.  
“So, what’s your name? How’d you end up here?” Luciel put the ring away as he nodded to Mary and they both started walking.   
You started to respond only to have someone new speak over you, “Shit! Why the hell are you here!?” The new person’s voice sounded completely eerie, as if three or four voices were speaking at once. It was practically impossible to tell which voice was actually his; it was haunting. You froze, a shudder curling up your spine before you finally glanced back.  
A man wearing a mask that covered his nose and mouth stood next to the tunnel entrance, toying with a knife in his hands. His nose wrinkled in what seemed to be anger, fury even. You felt you were supposed to recognize him. He felt so familiar, yet so foreign. You couldn’t recall anyone you had previously met who had white hair with pink tips before, so it must just be deja vu.   
“Ah! Another hunter, except you work for Rika. You must be the one I’ve heard about all these years, right?” Luciel lightly yet firmly questioned, half stepping in front of you. You couldn’t see him do so, but you could hear Mary draw his sword.  
The masked man’s grip on his knife tightened and he dropped his other hand to his side. He stared at the blade for a minute, seeming to completely ignore Luciel. A bluish liquid suddenly seemed to lightly ooze out the sides of the knife and trickle down the blade.  
“Even now all you do is ruin my life,” The stranger hissed.  
You blinked in confusion, “Huh? What?”   
The man scoffed and closed his eyes for a minute, “Not you, MC. Him.” He gestured to Luciel with the knife. The redheaded hunter froze for a few seconds as he tried to process. You didn’t even really have much time to question how this man knew your name.  
“Wait, you know me?” Luciel mumbled questioningly, his tone dropping from somewhat casual to completely grim. A laugh rose from the stranger’s throat as he lifted his index to run along the edge of his cloth mask.   
Mary gave a long, annoyed sigh and grumbled, “Luciel, what the fuck did you do this time? Who did you piss off  
“You know exactly what you did. Is Luciel the name you go by now?” The man pulled down his mask to reveal the rest of his face, including the empty smirk on his lips.   
You could see Luciel’s eyes widen a little as he started to put the pieces together, “Wait-”  
“Took you long enough. Now, enough of you. MC,” The man looked up with hollow yet piercing mint eyes and spoke in a low growl, “I missed you.”


End file.
